


Little Valentine

by princelogical



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen, Gifts, Sirens, Valentine - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-15
Updated: 2017-05-15
Packaged: 2018-11-01 03:35:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10913496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princelogical/pseuds/princelogical
Summary: Wren isn't too good at being human. Alicia doesn't mind.





	Little Valentine

**Author's Note:**

> Posting here for safe-keeping.

Wren wasn’t accustomed to human tradition and one of those traditions were exchanging gifts during a time they called _holidays_. Even though she was unaccustomed to such a thing, she could understand, in some way why it was as such. Holidays were special occasions like _parshyas_ from her home under the sea. Exchanging gifts was a way to show love.

Valentine’s day was one of the human holidays she was not baffled by. It was, as a kind human- one she called her friend- Alicia had told her, a celebration of _love._ Love- a human concept Wren understood. Love was a concept Wren… well, loved.

She had been given gifts from many of the humans she had met. The ones who had been accepting and eager upon her arrival gave her things such as candies, written words on cardboard papers and flowers. She also received gifts from those… less accepting of her existence. Such as less kind written words on folded thin papers, dead fish, razors, knives and other various weapons. When she saw a bouquet of dead flowers, Wren wasn’t surprised in the slightest and she simply tossed them out.

When she met Alicia for coffee that evening, the young woman asked Wren, “How was your first Valentine’s Day?”

“It was interesting,” Wren said, a ghost of a smile across her face. “I received many gifts.”

“Good. Did you get mine?”

“I don’t believe I saw one from you.”

“Too bad. I’ll send another tomorrow.”

Wren slept soundly that night, the faint buzzing of the television in the background broadcasting a controversial series: _**The existence of sirens has been confirmed in the most terrifying way**_ _ **.**_ _ **Watch our interview with Wren Glo, who claims to be a**_ _ **good**_ _ **sire**_ _ **n, unlike the rest of her kind!**_

Morning came soon enough and she gathered her newspaper- anther form of human media she found intriguing- and found a bouquet of dead flowers lying on her porch. She sighed and picked them up, glancing at the tag, then frowned.

_From: Alicia_

_To: Wren_

_I’m awful at gardening. It’s another human tradition. You don’t have to be perfect at everything humans do to be human._

_Much love! xx_

Wren smiled and went back into her house to write her own belated Valentine.


End file.
